


Handle With Care

by preludeoflight



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: And Ephraim Is Oblivious, FE8 Week 2017, Innes Also Refuses To Admit He Likes His Rival, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, i don't write this pairing enough and like i really should, it may be a little rough as it's a first time writing them for me but hey! i love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preludeoflight/pseuds/preludeoflight
Summary: Innes hates it when Ephraim has to see him cry. He hates it more than anything in the world.[ For FE8 Week 2017 ]





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> A little past midnight but who cares, this is the 10/25 prompt where I chose Comfort.
> 
> admittedly it's not 100% fluffy but it gets there in the end, a little at least.

Ephraim pushes the med tent flap aside, concern darkens his face. Sitting on one of the cots inside, knees pressed to his chest with an arm draped over them is Innes. The Frelian prince, usually so careful with masking his emotions under a smirk or a frown, now lays them bare. His other arm, the one that pulls arrows and lets them fly, rests in a hastily made sling. Ephraim doesn't meet his eyes, he's staring at the sling in shock. Had the previous battle really taken that much of a toll on their fighters? All he remembers is barreling through the lines with ease.

  
_"What do you want,"_ Innes hisses, staring straight at a hole in the tent's lining. To him, there is nothing worse than being reduced to some injured soldier who needs tending to. Neither does he need to be checked on, and especially not by Ephraim. Ephraim, who laughs in the face of danger and continues to rush forward, unafraid of whatever harm comes to him. What right does he have to show concern? It's so hypocritical it almost has Innes laugh, but he swallows it back. He wouldn't give the other the satisfaction.

  
"... I wanted to make sure you're okay." The words, as tender as Ephraim makes them, don't shift Innes' cold glare. He doesn't blame him, Ephraim knows he's the last person to show Innes this kind of treatment. But Innes is an important friend and key piece of this puzzle, he's their strategist and the voice of reason to his own foolish decisions. Of course he'd worry if someone like that got hurt, but why doesn't Innes take him seriously?

  
"Okay? Do I LOOK okay to you?!" Innes spits back, venom coating his tongue. He waves his wrapped arm for emphasis and bites back an oncoming wince of pain. "No, I'm NOT. My arm's broken, you idiot. All because you decided to run off and play the hero while the rest of us were swarmed!" His voice is rising, reaching fever pitch, but the Renais prince doesn't move. Innes swings his legs over the side of the bed, fists trembling in utter rage. _Why wasn't Ephraim saying anything?_ "What were you thinking?! That you alone could take the general? That you alone could singlehandedly fend off that army?! That you alone could keep Eirika safe?!" The anger breaks his voice at that last sentence, his shoulder slump in defeat. He hates this bitter taste on his tongue and this stinging in his eyes, how could he have allowed himself to fall so low in front of his rival?

  
"... Innes, I... I never intended for any of that." Ephraim approaches slowly, his footsteps barely make a sound. He touches the other prince as if he's made of glass and could shatter at any moment. Ephraim takes a breath and forces himself to be humble for once in his life. His friend is hurting, outside and in, Ephraim fears that even a single misplaced word could send Innes spiraling out of control. With great care, he kneels down until he's at eye level with Innes. "I'm sorry. I should have been there for you and for the others, and I wasn't. I'm sorry your arm got hurt because of me."

  
"I was trying--" Innes' breath hitches in his throat, he hates these damned tears that spill down his cheeks. He's not crying, crying is a weakness, crying shows that you can't control your own emotions. Yet still, he struggles to form the proper words without them coming out as a bumbling fumbling mess. Ephraim shouldn't be seeing him like this, Innes wishes he could be struck down by a wayward arrow. The pain and embarrassment is overwelming. "I was trying to catch up, but you were so far ahead-- !"

  
"I'm sorry." Ephraim bows his head and, still with that caution, wraps an arm around Innes' shoulders to pull him into a half hug. It's odd, his rival looks so different now. Not fragile, but just different. A bowed head, tears that litter the grass under his boots, a back that heaves with every shaky breath. It's a side of Innes that Ephraim's never seen, and not one he particularly wants to commit to memory. "I'm sorry I was such a fool. You worked so hard and I didn't see it. I'm sorry."

  
The two princes, both alike in pride, heave a sigh in sync. Innes' walls crumble, but Ephraim's here to rebuild them. He offers a rub to the Frelian's uninjured shoulder and sits in silence as Innes, through gritted teeth and looking as if the very process of crying causes him even more pain, spits out his sorrows. In the silence that follows, Ephraim repeats his apologies, as many times as Innes wants to hear them. Innes loosens and relaxes thanks to the lord, slowly the tears trickle away, though there's still a grudge digging its way inside him. To make this even, Innes has to see Ephraim cry too.

  
"... At least you apologized," Innes murmurs, it's almost whisper quiet. Ephraim catches it but just barely and gives him a wide smile.  
"It's no trouble. After all, this is what you need the most, right? Someone to take the blame."   
Innes goes silent again, watching Ephraim's expression flicker from relieved to confused in such a short manner is just excellent.   
"Hey, you'll be okay. I know that, no matter what, you'll still be Innes," Ephraim says, placing a hand over Innes' injured one. "Maybe all your speed to fling insults was trapped in your bow."  
"Is that a challenge?" Innes' eyes give a flash alongside his usual smirk. He's surprised how fast he falls back into their old pattern. But it's comforting in it's familiarity and Innes doesn't intend to stop. "Because I'd be more than happy to take you up on it."

  
"Perhaps tomorrow, you need your rest." Ephraim quickly stands and decides to cut it off there, it wouldn't be good to overexert him as he's injured. "I'll see you in the morning." With those parting words, the taller lord leaves through the tent flap. Innes snorts in frustration and flops back down on the cot, staring at the pole that holds the tent's center upright.   
Did Ephraim really come by here just to check on him? Or was there some sort of underlying meaning to it all? Usually Eirika's the one to see to the injured after Natasha's done patching them up, she's the far more caring one of the two. So why did Ephraim take the time to see him? What was the purpose of it? Innes gives another huff and forces his eyes shut, there's no need to run his mind ragged trying to think of excuses Ephraim could make. He likely only saw Innes out of the good of his heart, that's all, not out of some desparate desire to see him.  
Or maybe, Innes quietly hopes, just maybe he did.


End file.
